The Whitbury Postman.

Hawke's Bay Times, Issue 1529, 28 November 1873, Page 29

The Whitbury Postman.

A TALE OF A SUDDEN FLIGHT.

BY ROBERT ST. JOHN COIUSET. (Concluded.) CHAPTEII IV. A TELEGRAM AND LETTER. TiitiTH great anxiety everybody looked Y forward to post-time to-morrow, for it was hoped that old Singleton would deliver news respecting the runaways. The mail arrived at the usual hour, the post-bag was hooked on to the rope, and in "due course the aged postman, assisted by Godfrey, sorted the letters. Nothing had come from Clara, much to the disappointment of her landlord and old nurse ; but there were several letters for the Hall, one of which it was hoped might be from Mr Claridge. Contrary to his custom, old John set out to deliver his letters before the time appointed; he felt that the PostmasterGeneral would excuse this slight deviation from mechanical law, under the circumstances, and he hoped that the Whitbury public would not construe this extra-early delivery into a precedent, and clamor for their letters at the same time every morning.'

Sir John Claridge opened the Hall hag very deliberately. As a man of the world he knew very well that elopers arc not usually in hot haste to declare their whereabouts, nor likely to name an hour at which the carriage may be sent to the station for them. He coolly and quietly took out the letters for himself and family, and then dropped the bag outside his bedroom door. Having handed his good wife's letters to her, he pitched his own upon a chair, and declared his intention of taking a final doze before getting up. Lady Claridge hastily examined the handwriting on the envelopes containing her letters, and not seeing .'Frank's, she asked Sir John if he had heard from the runaway. " Have you heard from Frank, dear ?" " From Frank Aldis, do you mean ?" " No; you know very well from which Frank I mean. May I look at the envelopes ./papa ?" " By all means, my dear."' The good lady looked anxiously, but to her great disappointment, she found no letter from Frank. The tears came into her eyes as she laid the envelopes again on the chair, and presently she said in a sorrowful voice, to her husband, "It adds to my trouble, papa, lo see you so very indifferent." " My dear Eleanor, I am not indifferent at all, but I make no fuss. Eloping is eloping; it is that and nothing else. Fussing won't aggravate it, nor will it lessen it. The matter must take its course."

" But perhaps they have not eloped." " Perhaps Queen Anno isn't dead." Half-an-hour later Dora put her head into her mother's room, to ask if any letter had been received from Frank, and hearing that no news had come, she felt a little bit tempted to pronounce her verdict. She refrained, however; and, excepting that she told the bad news to Agnes, she made no comments at all.

The whole morning was spent in restless depression and uneasiness by all except Sir John. He went out after breakfast, no one knew whither, and left word that he very probably would not return before night. " He is going to alter his will," said Agnes to herself, and she made one effort to speak to her father ere it might he too late; but though she went round to the stables through the snow in her thin indoor boots, she was only just in time to be too late. She saw Sir John jump on to hislrig black horse, and had she been uncharitable she •would have believed he dug in his spurs immediately after mounting for the simple purpose of getting quickly out of her way. It was not until, one o'clock that anything happened to relieve the unhappy feelings of our friends at the Hall, but at that hour an event did occur which made their hearts beat. Dora was sitting at the window, tatting, when suddenly she saw a hoy on a pony, galloping at full speed up to the the liouse. ;

Her good, long-sighted eyes at once made out the lad to be a telegraph boy from Severnbridge, and instantly she ran to the hall-door, that no time might be lost in taking in the message. It was addressed to Lady Claridge, and instantly the old lady tore open the envelope,

"From F. Claridge, Lancaster, to Lady Claridge, Whitbttry. " Had a telegram yesterday from Bob, to say poor Dick is dying. Went off immediately. Met Miss Kenton at station; travelled with her to Liverpool. Do not expect me before Saturday. Had no time to write."

Lady Claridge handed the message to Agnes the moment she had read it. "God forgive me for my unjust judgment," she said, in alow voice. " How could I have thought such evil of my darling Frank ?" What a relief to all was this welcome message, and how happy did Agnes and Dora feel in reflecting that they had uttered no condemnation of their much-maligned brother. They loved him more than ever, and after the manner of well-regulated sisters, sat down at once to write him him two long and most affectionate letters; and 0! the bewildering punctuation they contained in the shape of dashes, hyphens, and dots! Though; this telegram explained Frank's sudden flight, it still left Clara's exit a mystery. Hasty critics could not be silenced, because it was not impossible that Clara might have seen Frank's departure to the train and that she might have followed him thither. The cause of Frank's flight was soon known in many parts of Whitbury; but hasty critics still thought grave suspicions lurked about the whole affair, and continued to visit Clara with their condemnation. To-morrow's post might clear away the darkness, but if no letter came then things would look ugly indeed. At half-past nine o'clock this evening Sir John Claridge returned to Whitbury, and two minutes after Frank's telegram was in his hand. He was far too "practical" to show emotion of any kind. On receiving the message, he handed a letter to his wife, remarking, " I rode into Severnbridgc to-day under the impression that there might be a letter from Frank by the second delivery. There was just the chance, but, I confess, I thought it a particularly small one. However, you seemed very anxious, mamma, and moreover persisted in thinking ho had not eloped, so off I went, and here is a letter from him."

" 0, dearest papa, was it that which took you into Severnbridge 1 " asked Agnes, running up to him. " Yes." " 0, papa ! and I was so wicked as to believe that you had gone to cut Frank off with a shilling, as people say. Do forgive me, it was very, very uncharitable." "It was, my child; but as your father did not set you a very good example in the matter, I don't think he can decently blame you. Is there any news about Clara Kenton ? " " None at all, unless Frank says anything in his letter to mamma." Lady Claridge read the letter aloud, and ascertained from it that Frank had received the telegram from his friend as he was riding yesterday morning before breakfast. He at once galloped to the station in time for the first train, leaving his horse with the new porter, but forgetting to tell him to have it sent up to the Hall. To his great astonishment he met Clara Kenton at the station, and getting into a carriage with her travelled in her company to Liverpool, where he would have to pass the night. He would not tell what was the cause of Clara's sudden exit, as it was her intention, he said to write at once to Godfrey on arriving in Liverpool. " The poor girl was .almost distracted," he continued, " and for some time I thought it was with grief; but after a while she showed me a letter she had received that morning, and then I discovered that it was joy which had so upset and distracted her. I won't tell you the secret, but I can promise you that it is of a nature to make the fortune of any sensational female novelist. By the way, my dear mother, Clara looked very pretty in her wild distraction aiid comfortable sealskin, and I cannot help thinking she would make a far more delightful Mrs Frank than the heiress."

" So she would, papa," exclaimed the old lady, putting down the letter. " Bless the boy! he must take whom he likes. Come, papa, you think so too, don't you ? " " Yes, you do, papa," put in Agnes, kissing him. " You know you do, papa, of course," added Dora, administering a most filial embrace. " Now you must promise at this very moment, papa." Sir John was very practical, we are aware—far too practical to be romantic : but he felt a little weak on the subject of Frank at this moment, and it the wife and fair daughters could but make a breach, they might take him by storm.

" Only muffs marry for love," he said; and if Frank likes to be considered one, he will marry Clara without asking me," " Well, what did you marry me for, papa ?" asked Lady Claridge. " Because I was a muff, is it any reason why my son should be one too ? Come, I'm far too hungry to argue. Here, Biggs, take some cold chicken and tongue into the dining-room, and a bottle of burgundy." "But, papa, you must promise to let Frank marry Clara." " He may marry his grandmother if he likes, my dear." The little excitement just recorded kept most of our friends awake for an how or two to-night, and perhaps the

hope of hearing from Clara in the morning aided somewhat in driving away sleep. Soon after six Agnes and Dora awoke, and getting up almost immediately, dressed themselves and walked down the park to the post-office. They needed no escort save that of two devoted dogs—an ornamental Newfoundland, and a very useful, practical terrier, and the morning being sharp and fine, they enjoyed their walk exceedingly. Old John and Godfrey were much surprised to see them. They arrived while the old postman and his new assistant were busy sorting, and there was a universal exclamation of delight when an envelope was descried bearing Clara's handwriting. There were two letters, it was presently discovered —one for Agnes and one for Godfrey. Both opened them in the utmost haste, and in less than a minute the sudden flight, which had caused so much alarm and distress, was fully accounted for. As Godfrey's letter contained a few more particulars than Miss Claridge's, the former's was taken up to the Hall as well as the hitter's in order that every item of news might be communicated.

It came out that, two mornings ago, Clara received a letter addressed in what certainly seemed to be her mother's handwriting. Clara could not believe her eyes; she looked again and again at the address, and became indescribably puzzled. News had reached her upwards of eighteen months ago that her father and mother had been drowned, and not themselves only, but every creature on board the ship. The vessel, an old East Indiaman, had been wrecked, and all hands, the papers said, had perished. Here, however, was a letter but one day old addressed in what certainly did seem to be Clara's own mother's handwriting. With tears in her eyes, and a fast-beating heart, the amateur sorter opened the envelope. It was several minutes before she could master the contents. She got as far as " Dearest child," and for some time could get no further; at length, however, she became calmer, and managed to read the whole of the very short letter—

" 92, Abererombic Square, Liverpool. "Dearest Child, —Come lo us at once; wait for nothing. AVe landed yesterday, but have only just ascertained your address from Uncle Frank. lam not surprised to hear you believed we perished with the rest of the passengers when our ship was wrecked. I will not, however, attempt to tell you now of our dangers, difficulties, and final rescue ; it is enough to know we are safe. Come to us at once ; do not wait for anything. " Ever, dearest child, " Your most affectionate mother " Tuesday evening. "M. A. Kenton."

Clara, the moment she had read the above, snatched up her hat, jacket, and ran, at the top of her speed, to the station. She knew a train left for the North somewhere about this time, so off she rushed, hoping to catch it. It was in sight as she ran on to the platform, and there, much to her surprise, she saw Frank Claridge with a ticket in his hand, and in evident impatience for the arrival of the train. He at once came up to her, as surprised to see her as she to see him ; and having asked her destination, he took her ticket and put her into a carriage. Frank was naturally much puzzled at Clara's sudden flight, and a little surprised that she did not enlighten him respecting it. He showed her the telegram which had been the cause of his own sudden departure, and Clara read it. She made scarcely any remark, however, but leaned back in the carriage, looking vacantly out of the window, and every now and then breaking out into tears. In a while she took out her mother's letter and handed it to Frank; then a long conversation followed, and Clara became so distracted with joy, and with the anticipation of meeting her parents again, that her companion told her he expected to see her stand on her head, or make other manifestations of wild enthusiasm.

Clara cooled down in time, and gave herself up to the enjoyment of handsome Frank's always agreeable company ; and if Frank did make a little love, or What seemed to be a very good immitation of it, I don't think we need hand him over to the police. In due time Liverpool was reached, and Frank, having put Clara into a cab, lit a cigar, and walked to his hotel.

Hero then we have the history of the sudden flight from Whitbury, and of course in a very short space of time it was known all over the village. Those who had looked so very wise when the news of the flight first reached them, now looked otherwise when the explanation thereof was communicated.

Nobody expressed many regrets for the harsh, unjust judgments passed upon the runaways, but the moral of the event was not by any means thrown away; regrets were felt, though not universally expressed. This was a step in the right direction ; but a step that fell short of full and perfect justice. However, in all probability, AYhen Frank and Clara returned to Whitbury, their maligncrs would find occasion to say some halfdozen words or so which would be meant and freely accepted as regret for hasty judgment; and no doubt all Whitbury would pauso ore it again pronounced a verdict without hearing the evidenco for the defence.

" But it did look suspicious," said the polieeman; and so it did,